be with him!—­a man who knows what is in books, and who has seen for himself, what is in men.  If he has not seen so much of women, where could he study all that is best in womanhood as he can in his own wife?  Only one thing that dear Euthymia lacks.  She is not quite pronounced enough in her views as to the rights and the wrongs of the sex.  When I visit you, as you say I shall, I mean to indoctrinate Maurice with sound views on that subject.  I have written an essay for the Society, which I hope will go a good way towards answering all the objections to female suffrage.  I mean to read it to your husband, if you will let me, as I know you will, and perhaps you would like to hear it,—­only you know my thoughts on the subject pretty well already.

With all sorts of kind messages to your dear husband, and love to your precious self, I am ever your Lurida.

DR. BUTTS TO MRS. EUTHYMIA KIRKWOOD.

My dear Euthymia,—­My pen refuses to call you by any other name.  Sweet-souled you are, and your Latinized Greek name is—­the one which truly designates you.  I cannot tell you how we have followed you, with what interest and delight through your travels, as you have told their story in your letters to your mother.  She has let us have the privilege of reading them, and we have been with you in steamer, yacht, felucca, gondola, Nile-boat; in all sorts of places, from crowded capitals to “deserts where no men abide,”—­everywhere keeping company with you in your natural and pleasant descriptions of your experiences.  And now that you have returned to your home in the great city I must write you a few lines of welcome, if nothing more.

You will find Arrowhead Village a good deal changed since you left it.  We are discovered by some of those over-rich people who make the little place upon which they swarm a kind of rural city.  When this happens the consequences are striking,—­some of them desirable and some far otherwise.  The effect of well-built, well-furnished, well-kept houses and of handsome grounds always maintained in good order about them shows itself in a large circuit around the fashionable centre.  Houses get on a new coat of paint, fences are kept in better order, little plots of flowers show themselves where only ragged weeds had rioted, the inhabitants present themselves in more comely attire and drive in handsomer vehicles with more carefully groomed horses.  On the other hand, there is a natural jealousy on the part of the natives of the region suddenly become fashionable.  They have seen the land they sold at farm prices by the acre coming to be valued by the foot, like the corner lots in a city.  Their simple and humble modes of life look almost poverty-stricken in the glare of wealth and luxury which so outshines their plain way of living.  It is true that many of them have found them selves richer than in former days, when the neighborhood lived on its own resources.